


sui caedere

by CNWinters



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Canon Related, Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Other, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-24 01:58:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CNWinters/pseuds/CNWinters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane arrives at work to find her partner has died and the speculation of his death begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: These characters aren’t mine. This fiction deals with sui caedere, aka "to kill oneself". If suicide makes you squeamish then this fiction is not for you. As someone who’s battled with suicidal depression at different times in my life, I can tell you it can be quite tiring to deal with a sense of hopelessness day in and day out. Sadly, according to news reports, it seems Lee Thompson Young lost his battle and a talented young man will be missed by his family, co-workers, friends and kindred spirits. It’s said that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. But it’s more than that. If you’ve battled with this illness, you know that problems don’t seem temporary at all while you’re nose deep in depression. Having someone ‘remind’ you of this does little. It feels like one bad thing after another is happening and you’ll never get your head above water again. All the fame, money, family and friends mean little when you feel like a failure – whether that failure is genuine or manufactured falsely in your mind (which is often the case). Again, if issues like this upset you, this might not be a fic for you.  
> Dedication: This fic is for all those people – living on the edge; threatening to tumble over. Even if you feel you have no worth in this world – you do. More people than you realize will be hurt by the emptiness your loss would bring. It’s truly unfortunate that, because of his illness, Young was unable to see the real truth: Nothing lasts forever – not good times… or bad times either. So this is for all those people who are ‘just hanging on’. You mean more to the world than you think and remember bad times aren’t permanent and waiting for happier days is the hardest part… but they do arrive eventually. So if you need to, take life second by second, minute by minute… and stay alive.  
> Feedback: You’re welcome to email me about this fic here or in an IM

**Prologue**

**~Jane~**

I knew it was horrible when I saw Vince crying. Yeah, he’s teared up before. He’s gotten misty eyed on a few cases. But when he walked in the squad today with that expression - my heart stopped. 

Immediately my mind went to Frankie or Ma. Or maybe even Cavanagh, who he knew for years. A brief flutter of relief set in when I thought about Maura. I knew it couldn’t be bad news about her. I just saw her two minutes before. He’d be in extreme panic mode if something had just happen to her downstairs. Whatever it was though, it was bad. My memory quickly scanned everyone I saw when I came in this morning. One person though was empty from my recollection as Vince closed the distance between us. 

_Oh no…_

I ask with apprehension, “Vince, what is it?” 

“I’m sorry.” He was struggling with his words. While Vincent Korsak wasn’t the most elegant of speakers, he was rarely tongue tied. 

“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me here.”

“It’s Frost…”

Now I’m getting annoyed and really scared. He’s not talking. Why isn’t he talking?!

“What’s wrong with him? Is he hurt?” I can hear the shortness in my voice.

“He’s gone, Jane.”

Gone? I think to myself. “What do you mean gone?” I ask out loud.

Vince takes a ragged breath and simply says, “He’s dead.” 

I’m speechless. Positively speechless and I barely hear what he says as he continues. 

“Uniforms contacted me,” he explains and wipes his eyes. He clears his throat and says, “A neighbor saw him in the parking garage of his apartment and called it in.”

I’m stunned. I can’t believe it. My first instinct is to say no. 

“Look, they’ve got to be mistaken. It’s gotta be someone else. Maybe someone who looks like him?” I say hopefully. 

Vince was already shaking his head before I finished my sentence. “Frankie confirmed it. It’s him, Jane.”

A million questions overtake me at once. _How did he die? Was it murder? If so, who wanted him dead? And if not, why is he gone? Was it an accident? Was it intentional?_ My detective side takes over and I want answers. I want to know why he died and how he died and….that makes me think. 

“Maura…” I mutter more to myself than Vince. 

My mind immediately goes to her. _What if Vince is right? What if Frost is dead? What if she walks in and finds him on her table this morning without so much as a heads-up. She’ll be mortified._

Vince held up his hand as if he could hear my inner dialogue. 

“Frankie’s still at the scene and Cavanaugh’s on his way down to warn her now.”

“W-What if she can’t… do it?” I ask. I can’t even finish the sentence the way I wanted. I don’t even want to say the word ‘autopsy’. 

“Everyone knows the relationship you share with Maura and the fact Frost is your part-…was your partner. That’s why Sean’s giving her the option of doing the autopsy herself or calling in Pike.”

“Pike,” I harrumph. “That’s just what we need.”

“Would you rather it be Papov? Between them, you gotta admit Pike’s the better choice.”

“A cop killer on the loose and M.E. that won’t thoroughly check the body for evidence or another who’s pickled with vodka.”

“We don’t know if this is a murder or not,” Vince tells me.

“What else could it be? Suicide?” I rebuff him. 

“Maybe,” he tries to say diplomatically. 

“We both know Frost wouldn’t kill himself,” I argue.

“Do we?” he challenges me.

 _I really don’t need this shit. Not right now._

“What are you saying?” I ask him. “Are you telling me I don’t know my own partner? Is that it?”

“No, Jane. I’m saying we don’t know all the facts right now. As hard as this is, we’ve gotta take a step back.”

“I don’t need to hear this. I gotta see Maura. We-we gotta figure out what to do. If someone’s got a price on our heads, we could be next.”

I’m already out the door and making my way to the elevators.

“Jane…” I hear Vince plead but I keep on walking. 

I’m sure he only wants to help, but he can’t. I got to keep moving. I’ve got to get to Maura. The only thing that’s going to help right now are answers. And I know she’s the woman who can get them for me. 

**Chapter 1**

**~Maura~**

It’s not often that Lieutenant Cavanaugh pays me a visit. That was the first thing I immediately observed. The next was his body language – the deep frown, the taunt brow line, the bowed head. He was in serious distress as he approached me. 

“Dr. Isles,” he began, his voice much softer than even his usual faintness. “I have some unsettling news about Detective Frost. He was found this morning by a neighbor and she called authorities. Two uniforms found him dead in his car.”

“Dead?” I ask. “What happened?”

“It appears to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound.” 

I’m literally dumbstruck. I have no idea what to say. I have no frame of reference for this. Yes, I’ve literally seen hundreds of bodies on my slab and, yes, quite a fair number of suicides in that time, but this… Once the rush of disbelief starts to fade, my mind straightaway goes to Jane. 

“Where’s Jane-Detective Rizzoli?” I immediately correct my informal use of her name in front of her commander.

Lieutenant Cavanaugh grins for a single second at my slip-up. 

“Jane,” he begins by stressing her first name. It’s his unspoken way of saying it’s acceptable to be informal and personal. “She’s upstairs with Vince right now. Frankie’s on the scene or in route with the body. I’m here because I want to give you the option of doing the autopsy or not.”

“I have a choice?”

“Absolutely. I can call in Papov or Pike, if that’s what you want. I’ll be honest. I’d prefer you, Dr. Isles. I know your attention to detail and how much of an asset you are to my teams. But I also understand you work closely with my teams; Detective Frost included. So, if you can’t do it, my second choice would be Dr. Pike. However, this is your lab,” he says as he motions his hands around us. “It’s your call.”

“When do I have to decide?”

“Not this very second,” he assures me. “But soon -- within the next hour, if you would,” he adds. 

Before I can reply or even nod, we both hear the swish of the doors. Cavanaugh and I both look to see Jane coming toward us and my arms immediately open invitingly. I don’t like to be hugged when I’m upset -- she does. She moves beyond the lieutenant and into my embrace. 

“He told you?” she asks, almost in a whimper against my neck. 

“Yes,” I reply. “I’m so sorry, Jane.”

I don’t say anything more and neither does she. I just continue to hold her. From over Jane’s shoulder, I see the lieutenant nod his head to me as he backs out to give us some privacy. I nod to him in return. I then run my hands from the back of her head to the tip of her dark curly locks. I do the gesture again and then again. 

She pulls back and looks around the room. 

“Is he here?” she asks.

“Not yet.”

“I want to see him.”

“No, Jane. Self-inflicted gunshots are violent.”

“Self-inflicted?”

“That’s what Cavanaugh said. So trust me, you don’t-.” I try to argue. I have to change her mind about this. She might think she needs this now, but she doesn’t. And although she’s been at a number of crime scenes, this is extremely different on a multitude of levels.

“Yes, Maura. I do!” she interrupts me. “I’m not gonna call his mother to say he’s dead without knowing that it’s really her son on your slab, okay?” she starts to yell. “And self-inflicted? Really?! Why the hell would he kill himself?!”

I flinch at the volume of her voice. I know she’s not angry with me and I know she wouldn’t hurt me no matter how much she’s pacing with her arms flailing. However, to say that I’m already feeling on edge at this moment is an understatement. 

“Let me at least identify him,” I plea with her. “If I do the autopsy, you’ll be the first one that-.”

“What do you mean ‘IF’ you do the autopsy?” she asks. 

“I’m not sure I’m going to do it,” I tell her and wait for the wrath. 

“Maura, how can you NOT do this?”

“Under normal circumstances, perhaps I could. But I’ve worked extremely close with Detective Frost because of my relationship with you.”

“Look, he’s MY partner; not yours,” Jane reminds me.

 _Oh, that stung._

I look away and turn my back to her. I make my way over to my tools; searching for a distraction. I really don’t want to argue with her about this. Some wars should never be waged. Who loved Frost more is one of them. It serves no purpose, other than damaging feelings, which are already feeling quite raw. 

“I’m sorry,” she immediately apologizes. “I know you care for him. And I was outta line.”

“Yes, you were.” I tell her. Instantly, I add, “I forgive you, given the circumstance.” I know she needs to hear that. 

She released a deep sigh. “We need you, Maura,” she beseeches me. Then she adds three more words… “I need you.”

I know she’s not trying to manipulate me. I know she genuinely wants my help but I’m not sure I can – for reasons great and small. I take a renewed interest in my scalpel as I consider my options. 

“What can I do, Jane?” I ask, finally making eye contact with her again. 

She pauses and then says, “You speak for the dead. Speak for Frost.” She takes a ragged breath and runs her fingers through her hair as she says, “I need that closure.”

It might not be the best thing to say, but it’s the truth. And she needs to hear it…

“Oh Jane, even if I find SOME answers, you may never find the closure you seek.”

She whimpers, “Right now, I’ll just take what I can get.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**~Sean~**

This job is stressful – no doubt. My old commander once said getting an 'officer down' call was one of the worst a boss could get. The absolute worse though, he said, was losing a cop. 

I found out today. He was wrong. 

The absolute worse is losing a cop – to himself. Yes, getting killed comes with this job. Every cop walks out that door knowing they might not come home at the end of their shift. When the reason they don’t come home is because his own hand, well, that's beyond tragic. My thoughts are interrupted though when I hear a light knock.

I rise from behind my desk when I see Dr. Isles and Rizzoli at the doorway. 

“Come in, Ladies,” I tell them as I move around the desk. “I’m so sorry, Rizzoli,” I add to her. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she responds politely. “I apologize for not acknowledging you earlier.”

“Everyone’s a little rattled right now,” I tell her. And I mean it. I turn to Dr. Isles and pray for the best. “Have you decided?” I ask hopefully.

“I have,” she says decisively. “I'd like you to call in Dr. Pike. I-.”

“What?!” Rizzoli nearly shouts. “You said-.”

Dr. Isles silences her with a raised finger and I'm surprised that's all it takes. Rizzoli can get quite passionate. She’s got what my old commander called a ‘good cop temper’ – a passion for the badge; for answers; for life. Dr. Isles though... She’s one of the few who can keep her in check. Not all the time though, but most of the time, and thankfully, it’s working today. 

“For a second examination,” Dr. Isles explains. “I'll do the primary autopsy on Detective Frost. However, given my relationship to him, I might become distracted. I might miss something of importance. I'd like Dr. Pike to corroborate or dispute my findings.”

I extend my hand to her and shake it in a grateful fashion. 

“I realize this isn't a normal situation. And this means a lot to the department and to me too, Dr. Isles. Sincerely, thank you.”

“I wish...” She lets the sentence hang. She seems unable to continue her train of thought. I know what she wishes. It’s what all of us are wishing. We’re wishing this was just a bad nightmare. We’re wishing we could wake up and life would be the same again. But it’s not. Instead of saying more she simply says, “You're welcome, Lieutenant. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm going to head back downstairs. I’ll make my call to Dr. Pike and wait for Detective Rizzoli – Frankie – to arrive.”

“Certainly,” I tell her and extend my arm again. 

After shaking my hand, I watch her run her fingers down the length of Rizzoli's arm. She gives my detective's hand a light squeeze, which she returns, before the doctor makes her departure, leaving us alone. A second after the door closes I turn to my detective. 

“Jane,” I begin making sure to use her first name this time. “Do you want to put in for some vacation time? I'll sign the order right now.”

“No, thank you, Lieutenant. I'd rather not, if that's okay.”

I release a heavy sigh. “I know this stuff happens. The stress of the job; everything. But I never thought...” I'm at a loss for words. I have no idea how it feels to lose a partner, let alone by their own hand. 

“I know, Sir,” she replies sadly. 

I gotta know...“Did he mention anything being wrong lately?” I wonder out loud.

“Not to me, Lieutenant. I'm wondering if maybe someone forced him to do this.”

 _Forced._ “What do you mean?”

“You know all the psychos I seem to attract. He's got a mom. Maybe they threatened him. Maybe they told him if he didn't kill himself then they'd kill her.”

“Do you really think that's possible?”

“After Hoyte? Anything is possible, Sir.”

“I think you're grasping here, Rizzoli.”

“Maybe,” she mutters. “I’m just looking at all the possible angles.”

“That's why you're a great cop,” I compliment her. 

She pauses. “With all due respect, we both know that’s a lie.”

“Excuse me?”

“If I was such a great cop I would have seen this coming, wouldn't I?”

At first, I'm not sure how to answer. “I think you're being way too hard on yourself, Jane.”

“How do you figure? A good partner knows who's watching their back. Obviously, I didn't know him at all, did I?”

“Rizzoli,” I sigh. “I know I can't say anything that's going to make this better. All I can say is…For now, let Frankie and Dr. Isles look into this, please. They’ll both give it the attention it deserves.”

She doesn't say anything immediately. Finally, after a few seconds pass, she says, “Yes, Sir. Can I be excused?”

“Absolutely,” I tell her.

Before I can add more, she's already out the door; not looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**~Angela~**

 

Something’s going on. But I’m not sure what it is. I see people talking outside the café in hushed voices. They glance at me and then return to their quiet talk. It’s unnerving to say the least! At first, I check my clothes. Was my fly down? Am I missing a button on my shirt? Why do people seem to be talking about me yet can’t look at me?

 

Thank God I just watched Janie and Maura sharing coffee here a little while ago or I’d be worried something was wrong with them. That’s when I realize Frankie was on a call of a possible homicide. With all the hushed tones and eyes avoiding me… I’m getting worried. Real worried. 

 

“Mr. Stanley!” I call toward the back. “I’m going on break.”

 

“You just got here, Rizzoli!” he yells as he comes out to meet me. “You can’t leave during breakfast rush!”

 

“Rush? Look around,” I tell him. It really is dead for the morning time. Another tip off that something’s not right. “No one’s here, which means there’s something bad going on.”

 

“You’re crazy and the donuts are almost done.”

 

I don’t want to argue so I just walk away.

 

“Rizzoli! You walk out and you’re history!”

 

_He won’t fire me. He needs the help. Besides, this’ll just be a minute._

 

I make my way to a pair of officers who were talking and sparing glances to me now and then. As I approach, everyone seems to start clearing a path, even them. It’s like they’re avoiding me completely. Now I’m REALLY scared.

 

I see Lieutenant Martinez talking with someone I don’t recognize. If there was something wrong with Frankie, chances are, he would know. As I take a few unsettling steps toward him, that’s when I see Frankie on the right! Oh, thank you God! He’s talking to Sergeant Korsak… but they both look upset. I quickly make my way over.

 

“What’s wrong?” tumbles from my mouth before either of them can speak.

 

“It’s Frost, Ma. He’s dead.”

 

I can’t say anything. I want to say something, but I’m shocked. Frankie can read my baffled expression and nods his head.

 

“What happened? Does Janie…?” I start to ask. I’m not even sure how to form sentences at this point! Thankfully, they both sense my confusion and growing sadness at it all.

 

“I just talked to Jane,” Vince says. “Frankie says it looks like a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He just brought his body to the morgue.”

 

“Speaking of,” he says to me, “I hate to drop a bomb like this on ya and run, Ma. But I gotta go talk to Maura.”

 

“No. You go, Sweetheart. You do what you need to, and if you need me, you know where to find me.”

 

I don’t care if the whole squad watches. I stand on my tip toes and I give him a big kiss on the cheek. It’s a kiss of relief that he’s okay and one of condolence because I know how much Frost meant to him too. Rather than brush me aside like I half-expected, he wraps his arms around me instead and leans into my ear.

 

“I love ya, Ma,” he says softly.

 

“I love you too, Sweetie,” I reply. “Go on.”

 

Vince and I watch him walk away.

 

“I KNEW something was wrong,” I tell the sergeant. “I thought it was Jane or Frankie because people were looking at me and then looking away, you know?”

 

“It’s the connection – It’s Jane’s partner. You’re Jane’s mom. They probably didn’t know what to say…Heck, even I’m not sure what to say,” he confesses.

 

“Is Jane upstairs?”

 

“I think she was with Sean actually.”

 

“Vince, please tell her I’m here for her, okay? Will you make sure to tell her?” I ask as a cry creeps into my voice. I try to hide it but I’m failing miserable.

 

“I’m sure she knows,” he tells me in a kind voice. “But yes, I’ll remind her.”

 

He puts a gentle hand on my upper arm and I give it a squeeze of thanks before he makes his way back upstairs. I head into the café thinking of everything. I have no idea why Barry would take his life. He always seemed so happy, so cheerful. He was always there for everyone. But maybe that’s it. Maybe he thought no one was there for him. That’s not the truth though. So many people were here for him…I was here for him if he just asked. But then again, maybe I should have noticed. Maybe I could have looked deeper. Whatever the reason though it’s all just… heartbreaking.

 

“I told you if you left you were outta here!” Stanley barks, rattling me from my thoughts as I walk into the café.

 

I walk behind the counter.

 

“Detective Frost is dead. Suicide they think.”

 

It’s all I say and I watch his angry express fall into one of disbelief.

 

“I gotta get those donuts,” I tell him. As I start to make by way through the swinging door, he calls out.

 

“Angela?” He says my first name, which makes me stop. Rarely does the man use my first name. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

 

“I’m sorry too. Frost was a good man,” I say trying to keep my tears at bay.

 

“Yeah, he was,” he agrees. “But I meant sorry for how I treated you. If you need to take off or whatever…”

 

“My family’s here,” I tell him. “I go where they go and I gotta feelin’ it’s gonna be a very long day here at headquarters.”

 

“Well, then,” he says, “You see to the donuts and I’ll get some fresh coffee going for everyone, how’s that? That’s something we can do, right?”

 

Staying busy at the moment seems like a good idea.

 

“Right away, Mr. Stanley…And thank you.”

 

“No problem. And when you see Jane…I know it might not matter to her, but tell her I’m sorry for her loss.”

 

I just nod and slip out of sight. Once I’m alone, that’s when it really hits me that he’s gone. I just collapse into tears – for Barry, for his sweet mom and her partner, for Janie, for all of us.

 

TBC

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

~Frankie~

I’m on the elevator but my mind’s still reeling from what I witnessed today. Yeah, I’ve seen dead bodies. Hell, I even tormented Frost over his repulsion of them. And even today, I wasn’t nauseous… at first. I was just shocked. It looked almost fake and I half expected him to sit up and say, ‘Gotcha!’ with that teasing smile. But the longer I looked at his lifeless eyes, the blood…I just…That’s when I ran to some nearby bushes and threw up. 

When I walk into the morgue, Maura is directing the tech where to place… his body?…His body sounds kinda impersonal, so should I say Frost instead? I feel so confused right now I can’t even form proper sentences in my mind. I still don’t know what I’m going to say to Maura as I approach her.

She turns, sees me and then smiles. It’s not an ‘I’m happy you’re here smile’. It’s an ‘I’m ready to support you smile’. Sure. Frost was Janie’s partner. I know that. We ALL know that. But I liked him too. Correction. I loved him. Too often when we’re alive it’s not cool for two guys who dig chicks to say they love each other, but… I did. Maybe if I told him he would have held on. He’d be alive because he would have someone in this mixed up world who loves him.

When she’s within a few feet of me, Maura opens her arms and I take the invitation. 

“I’m so sorry, Frankie,” she tells me. She’s the first one, out of everyone, that recognizes I lost him too and for a few seconds I tighten my grip on her in a show of thanks… and survival. I can’t go to Jane about this right now. She’s got her own mess to deal with. And Ma? I love her, but she can get so emotional I end up consoling her. But Maura though? Maura can be the rock that all the Rizzoli’s need… the rock that I need.

I pull back and clear my throat. I point quickly to the slab where he’s lying and try to speak, but no words come at first. 

“It’s okay,” she reassures me. Yes, the woman has literally saved my life, but in that moment, I can see why Tommy’s so infatuated with her and why Jane loves her. She might say things at an inapproiate time and some jokes and popular culture go right over her head. At other times though, she’s more thoughtful and understanding than anyone I’ve ever met. 

“Thanks,” I say quickly. “I, uh, I’m almost positive it’s a suicide,” I continue. “Given the nature of the head injury, I mean; plus the powder residue on his hands and at the scene. But I know you don’t like to guess.” 

It’s one of her quirk that absolute drives Janie insane. The memory of my sisters’ rants for a quick answer makes me grin for just a slight moment. Maura knows what I’m thinking, at least it seems, because she grins as well. 

“Yes,” she answers. “I’ll do my examination and Dr. Pike will review my findings.”

I just nod. Whatever she wants to do is fine by me. 

“Frankie? I’m not sure if anyone can ‘see something like this coming’,” she begins, “… but did you notice anything unusual about Det. Frost’s behavior lately?”

For about the tenth time that morning my mind went back to the week before…

“Hey Frankie?” he said as he called me over.

“What’s up?”

“Here. I got something for you.”

I looked down at the robot action figure we fought over at Ma’s yard sale. 

“Dude! For real?”

He smiled. “Sure. I’m not going to be here forever and I know he’ll be in good hands with you. Besides, your desk looked pretty bare; thought you could spruce it up a bit.”

I pulled him into a short hug and gave him a strong pat – one of those ‘manly’ pats – on the middle of his back. Although he was smiling, he seemed a little misty eyed too. 

“Just make sure you feed and water him every day,” Frost teased.

Back in the present, I look at Maura. 

“Maybe,” I answer her. “He gave me his robot.”

She looked confused so I went on. 

“Ma sold him this robot toy I had as a kid at a yard sale.”

“Oh yes,” she said in recollection.

“Yeah and for the past few years he had it on his desk – to taunt me probably.” I grin for a few seconds at the memory. “But…”

“What?”

“He looked like he was going to cry after he gave it to me and I just thought… I don’t know.”

“Go on,” she said softly, sensing my reluctance. 

“He had one as a kid too and I thought maybe it just reminded him of his father or something. But maybe it meant more. Maybe he was saying good-bye and I totally missed the clue. That’s probably stupid, huh?”

“Not at all,” she assures me. “Giving away possessions and things of importance can be a sign of impending suicide, as well as being a good friend. There’s no way you could have known, Frankie.”

“Nah, I knew and didn’t stop it,” I mutter.

“No,” Maura said firmly. “You had every right to make the assumptions you did. You had no idea he was bequeathing you a cherished possession. For all you knew, he was giving you something he valued to commemorate your recent promotion… Don’t feel bad about that.”

I hear her words. And I know, deep down, she’s right. In the end, it was Frost’s fault he was no longer here. Still, it’s cold comfort when I realize that maybe, just maybe, I could have said something or done something to change the outcome. 

“I have to ask a big favor,” Maura says, “Would you call Detective Frost’s mother? Jane says she wants to do it after she sees him, but I’d rather not… put her through that.”

Just like clockwork, Janie comes strutting through the door with that look of piss and vinegar. Maura’s sigh is audible as my sister approaches. 

“That him?” she asks sharply as she points to the slab. 

“Jane,” Maura says almost like a plea. “Go back upstairs. You don’t have to do this. Frankie has identified him.”

“I want-no-I NEED to see him,” she replies as she makes her way over. 

“Jane, no,” I call out, making her stop. “This is Maura’s lab. She calls the shots. If she wants you out, then you get out.”

“NO! You get out! You’re not the boss of me.” she challenges me. I can see where this is going, but I’m not taking the bait – not this time at least. 

“No, I’m not, but in this lab, Maura is the boss.” I reach out to her, trying to take her hand to pull her with me as I turn to leave. 

She pulls her arm back sharply and walks over to the body under Maura’s continued protests. Within seconds, she’s got the zipper pulled down, exposing his face. 

In that instant, there was no sound and it seemed like the entire world just… stopped. 

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

~Vince~

I used to say I wasn't old enough to be his dad. That was a lie. I was old enough, but damned if I'd admit that to him. Maybe that's what bothered me so much about him. He was young, just starting his career; his life and he could go places, maybe even further than me. Street smarts, like me, and a tech head too – a cop for the 21st century. You could say he has...had everything to be a cop in the new millennium.

Then there as Jane... He stole her from me. Not as some romantic conquest or anything, but as my partner.

Fucking Hoyte.

But again, if I were being completely honest, that's a lie too. The truth is he didn't take her. She was 'given' to him by the powers that be; the guys with juice. And I could say he took her for granted, but again, that's not true. When crazy baker boy stole her, I remember how distraught he was and how determined he was as he ran those stairs going to her apartment...and then the disappointment when she wasn't there. Still, he raced back to the car – not giving up on finding her; not losing hope we'd bring her home.

That’s why this doesn't make any sense. How could someone who loved and cared for someone so deep just... give up? How could someone who was so hopeful against insurmountable odds do a 180 on his own life? I don't understand it. What was so bad he had to off himself?

Yes, this job can be a stressor, but he was so dedicated to doing the work. I've even lifted a glass with him for a job well done. How come no one seen this coming? How could I not see this coming? Maybe if I acted more like a dad, than a rival, things would be different. Then again, maybe he had demons even he didn't understand.

I knock on the door to Sean's office and he motions me inside.

“Hey Vince,” he says softly.

“Have you seen Jane, Sean?”

“She just left. Not sure where she went. Probably Dr. Isles if I had to guess,” he replies. 

I just nod. Neither of us seems to know what to say at first, but then he clears his throat.

“Did you…?” I know what he’s thinking. He wants to know if I saw this coming.

“No,” I reply before he can try to finish the sentence. “You?”

“Not a clue,” he says despondently. “I know he’s dead. And I know I’ve got no right to say anything but…”

“What?”

“I feel cheated, Vince. He’s dead but I feel cheated he’s no longer here. This department needs great cops and he was bright. And now, well, I’ve lost a great cop this city could have really used. Think that makes me a bad person? Selfish?”

I think about his words and realize, yeah, that’s how I feel too. 

I tell him, “I think anytime someone wastes their talents, it’s a shame. No matter how those talents are wasted. And the kid was talented. Better at me when it came to that computer stuff.” 

Give a short grin of nervousness. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’m letting the armor down a bit. 

“Keep an eye on Jane, would ya Vince?” he asks. “I don’t think she’ll harm herself, but losing a partner is… well, I don’t know what. It’s never happened to me. She just might need an ear or a shoulder that’s not a Rizzoli. Know what I mean?”

I do actually. Sometimes family can’t help. Sometimes you need someone who’s close but not too familiar. 

“Sure, Sean,” I say as I make my way back toward the door. I stop short of opening and turn to face him. “Same goes for you, ya know.” I tell him. “Sometimes being the stoic leader isn’t all it’s cracked up to be so if you need me-.”

He smiles a genuine smile and says, “Thanks Vince” before I can say more. “I appreciate that,” he adds. 

I give him a nod and make my way to find Jane. My first stop? The morgue. 

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

~Jane~

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. It’s him. No doubt about it… it’s him. I hoped against hope that it would be someone else; that Frankie was mistaken and it was just someone who looked like Frost. But there he is. He’s dead. He’s gone… He’s really gone. He doesn’t look like he’s sleeping. He looks like the life is drained out of him. That spark... That flicker of humanity is completely gone and he’s just a corpse now. 

I realize that some time has passed and I’m just staring. I re-zip the body bag and clear my throat. I know Frankie and Maura are behind me. I can’t see them from this angle, but I know they’re still there…waiting on me to say or do something. 

“Janie,” Frankie starts with his voice soft. 

I simply hold my hand up in the air; not turning around yet. Thankfully, he takes the cue and goes silent.

“Can you… can you find the number of Frost’s mother and call me down here with it? Let Cavanagh know I want to make the call, okay?”

I don’t see it happen, but I hear his jacket move -- he’s probably looking to Maura for confirmation and she’s probably nodding and motioning him away.

“Sure,” he replies before I hear his retreating footsteps. 

The next thing I catch are Maura’s heels; sounds like her Jimmy Choo ‘Isabel’ shoes – probably the open toe navy ones since she had on that Donna Karan pencil skirt. I liked that skirt and even thought about getting one like it for court until she told me it was nearly $600. My mind is just wandering now. I’ve got to focus. 

How can I recognize my best friends’ shoes by the sounds they make, but not see that my partner wanted to kill himself? God, I’m such an idiot. 

My hands grip the slab in front of me and for a moment I think my knees might buckle under the weight of that question. That’s when I feel it. Maura’s hands slink over my hips and around my waist. She’s hugging me from behind and I feel her rest her forehead on the middle of my back, just below my shoulder blades. She’s holding on loosely but I know she’s ready to catch me if I drop and that’s when it hits me. She’s there for me – to catch me – physically …emotionally. Where was I when Frost needed someone? Where the hell was I?

That’s when I start to cry; really hard. 

How could Frost not see that any single one of us would be there to catch him if he needed it? What was so bad that he couldn’t face another day? And why hadn’t I seen it? I cry for him. I cry for me. I just can’t stop crying. And Maura…she says nothing. She just lets me cry. She doesn’t tell me to cry it out. She doesn’t try to hush me or offer false reassurances. She just… she lets me cry. I love her all the more and that makes me cry even harder. But I know I have to pull it together here. 

I catch my breath and I quickly wipe my eyes. She still hasn’t let me go as I turn around to face her. She starts to push my hair behind my ear while she caresses my face, wiping away the tears I missed. 

“I don’t want to cry on Camille,” I finally say to her. “I want to tell her what happened. I want… I want her to know why he’s not here.”

“I think Frankie’s estimation is correct – a gunshot wound.”

“No,” I tell her. “I want to know WHY he did it.”

I can tell by that look on her face Maura wants to tell the truth. And I know the truth. I’m not going to have the answers. No one will. But maybe his mother might have more of an idea than any of us.

I watch Maura just nod silent in agreement. 

The phone rings and Maura goes to answer. She listens for a moment and only says, “Yes”. Then she motions the phone toward me. “Frankie says the Lieutenant gave his approval to call Ms. Frost. He has the number,” she tells me. 

I walk over and pick up a pen and scrap of paper on the desk. “Go ‘head,” I tell him. I write down the number and give him my thanks before I hang up. 

I turn to Maura. “We’re sure it’s a suicide?” I ask one last time.

I can tell Maura is torn. She hates absolutes without evidence. But I have to have some idea of what to tell Camille.

“It appears so. Yes,” she finally answers.

I know that’s as good as I’m going to get right now so I nod. 

“Let me know if you find anything,” I simply say before I leave. 

On the way up to the squad room, I find my hands playing with the piece of paper. I’m trying to think how I’m going to break the news. It’s different when it’s a stranger. This feeling though... It’s not a unknown family. I’m on a first name basis with these people. I wonder for a moment if she’ll blame me and, in a way, I hope she would. It would validate the guilt I feel for not seeing the signs of a man in trouble. 

I walk into the squad room and everything seems to stop at once – conversations, phones – everything comes to a standstill. It’s only a few seconds, but it seems like an eternity. That’s when I see Vince get up from his desk. 

“Do you want me to call, Jane?” he offers. “Frankie said you-.”

“I got this,” I tell him. I muster a small grin for him. It’s reassuring to know he’s here if I need him. “Thanks though.”

He gives me a nod and the tiniest of grins in return. It’s like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and it’s a warm feeling. 

“Just so you know,” he adds. “I’ve got the Navy getting in touch with Frost’s dad.”

“Thanks,” I tell him sincerely and get another nod in return. 

I walk over to my desk and take a deep breath. I blow it out slowly and pick up the phone. It feels like every eye in the station is on me – except for Korsak. He’s giving me privacy. That’s one of the things I always loved about him. Like Maura, he knows when I need comfort… and when I need space. 

My fingers are shaking as I punch in the numbers. There’s one ring. Then two. Then three. I’m on the verge of hanging up when I hear a woman on the other end say, “Hello?”

I clear my throat for a brief moment. “Hey, is this Camille?”

“No, it’s Robin,” she replies. I hadn’t thought about this situation. Do I tell Frost’s step-mom first or do I wait to talk to Camille? I’m not sure what to do when I hear her say, “Can I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s Jane. Jane Rizzoli.”

“Oh, Jane. I didn’t recognize you.” She sounds cheerful to hear from me at first, but then there’s a pause and I can almost feel that dread reach through the phone to grab my heart. 

“Is Camille there?” I ask trying to keep my voice even. 

At first, she says nothing, but then she answers, “Uhhh, yeah. One moment.” I hear her cover the phone and yell for Camille to pick up. She tells her that it’s me and again… seconds feel like hours. Finally, Camille is on the line. 

“Is something wrong, Jane?” she asks immediately. No, ‘Hi’ or ‘Hello’. She knows something not right. 

“Yes,” I say. “I’m…uh…I’m glad that Robin’s there with you because I have some sad news. I’m calling to-to inform you that Barry was found dead at his apartment today. I’m so so sorry, Camille.” Nothing. No weeping. No screaming. No nothing. “Camille?” I ask.

“I-I I’m not sure I heard you right. Barry’s dead?” 

That’s when I hear Robin’s gasp and onset of tears. Camille though, her words are like a small plea, like a wish that I was somehow mistaken. She’s in shock -- like I was when I got the news. She’s in denial like I was -- when I didn’t want to believe it. 

“Yes. Maura-uhh Dr. Isles, she’s with him now. She’s doing the autopsy but it appears to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The evidence at this time is pointing toward suicide. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in person to tell you, but I wanted to call before you heard anything on the news.”

That’s when I hear her anguished cry and my bottom lip starts to tremble. I lower my head enough so my long hair shields my face. I’m not sure why but I don’t want anyone seeing me right now. I glance over for a moment and I see that Korsak has risen from his desk and starts to make his way over. I’m not sure what to say to Camille and Robin. I have no idea what to do next. I’ve made what seems like hundreds of these calls, but this one… it feels so foreign to me. 

Vince holds out his hand and doesn’t order me to give him the phone. He simply asks, “Can I?”

I don’t want to be weak, but I’ve lost my voice at this point. I hand him the phone, grateful that he’s here. 

“Camille? This is Sgt. Korsak,” I watch him say. “We’re all terribly sorry for your loss. I’m assuming you’ll be coming to Boston?” I watch him nod as he listens. “Will you please contact us when you get in?” Again, he nods. “Okay and if you need anything you call Janie on her cell phone or contact me, promise?” Once more, he nods. “Take care. We’ll see you and Robin soon. Buh-bye.”

He hangs up the phone and I look up at him. “I feel like an ass,” I tell him. 

“Why?” he says with a deep sympathetic tone. “You lost him too, Jane. You’re allowed to grieve too.”

He doesn’t say more. He simply puts a hand on my shoulder, giving it a short squeeze, before he makes his way to the coffee pot. 

He’s right. Yes, Camille lost a son. But I lost someone I loved too. 

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

~Maura~

I see Susie peek her head in from the doorway of the lab. 

“Dr. Isles?” she calls out and then makes her way inside. “The residue on Det. Frost’s hand is just as you suspected - potassium nitrate, sulfur and charcoal.”

“Gun powder.” It’s not a question.

“Yes,” she replies. “It’s a small amount, but when combined with the trajectory of the bullet path and exit, it does point to one conclusion.”

“Thank you for giving this a priority, Susie,” I tell her. 

She nods and I reach for the sheet to re-cover Det. Frost’s naked body. I can’t help but notice that he’s in such good shape. Yes, he’s younger than most detectives, but physically, he really took care of himself. Emotionally though? That appears to be another story.

“Why Barry?” I whisper to him, using his first name. I place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t understand this. Help me understand.”

“Dr. Isles?” I hear Susie ask again. I simply look at her and pull up the sheet. “I know that you spent a fair amount of time with Det. Frost,” she begins and then adds, “because of your relationship with Det. Rizzoli.” I simply continue to listen as she says, “So if…if you need to talk to someone-.”

I smile at her. She really is a sweet person at heart. Smart. Shy. A bit backward at times… not unlike myself, truth be told. 

“Thank you,” I say cutting her short of her offer. “I appreciate that. But I’ll be alright.”

She shrugs and says, “Of course.” She starts to go, but then she stops and turns to me again. “Sometimes though… when you’re the strong one, it can feel like you’ve got no one in the world to lean on yourself. I’m the eldest sister so, you know, it’s not always easy being the ‘brave one’. What I mean is, if you need me, I’m here for you, ma’am.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I tell her. She really is an exceptional young lady. Skilled at her job, although it can be quite stressful at times. I think Frost was exceptional too and I wondered if anyone really knew about his life. Last I heard, he was dating a barista. I look again at Susie and then it hits me.

“How are you and Alex doing, Susie?”

The question seems to take her off-balance for a moment although I am genuinely asking. I wonder that maybe Det. Frost needed someone to talk about his life from time to time. Maybe he didn’t really have that. I know Jane loved him but Jane can often be all about the job and little else, especially depending on the case she’s working. I wonder if maybe I had a conversation with him – one that extended beyond the four walls of the morgue – maybe things would have been different. Maybe he would have turned to me. And maybe, just maybe, if Susie finds herself in a situation like his she’ll know someone cares for her. 

“We’re good,” she replies. “He’s finishing up with medical school soon.”

“Yes. It can be time consuming…and sleep depriving. I remember.” I give her a sympathetic grin. 

She grins too and nods. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” she asks.

“There actually is something.”

“Anything,” she offers automatically; without question.

“Can you take Det. Frost’s personal effects and get them to CSI? I’d like to have them examine things closer. Just to insure he wasn’t forced into harming himself. We’re looking for the usual – fingerprints, hair, any kind of DNA – essentially evidence which might suggest he wasn’t alone in his final hours.”

“Absolutely,” she replies. “I’ll see to it right now.”

She takes the box and begins to make her way from the room, but then she stops. 

“Thank you,” she tells me.

“For what?” I ask.

“For asking about Alex. I might be presumptuous in thinking the reason you mentioned him is you feel you didn’t talk personally enough to Det. Frost.” Yes, Susie is smart. “But sometimes Dr. Isles… people have demons that all the questions in the world can’t fix.” Again, she’s smart. “Anyway, I’ll let you know the results ASAP.”

I nod one final time as she leaves. Now I’m alone with more time to think. I look at the slab and the outline of Det. Frost. Soon, Jane will be here wanting answers to questions that, quite frankly, I can’t answer. He’s taking the mystery of his death to the grave. I’m finding out quick… since we’ve found no note, no reason for this apparent senseless act, I can’t always speak for the dead…especially when they don’t want to talk.

The only conclusion I can make is depressingly simple: He had a gun. He felt life was too hard. He chose a permanent solution to his temporary problems. Why couldn’t he hang on or share his sense of hopelessness with someone? Many of us would have taken it seriously. I know ‘I’ would have. Now all that’s left is a dead man with years of potential wasted and a multitude of damaged hearts and souls for those who loved him…and lost him. 

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

~ Sean ~

“Lieutenant Cavanagh.”

I look toward the voice in my office doorway. 

“Dr. Pike,” I say as I rise. “Thank you for coming down.”

“You’re quite welcome, Sir. I’m glad to be of service, but sad to hear of Det. Frosts’ passing. He seemed to be a soft-spoken, quiet gentleman from what I remember. It’s quite sad indeed.”

“Yes. It is. I’m glad you could come on such short notice,” I say as I shake his hand and point toward the elevators. 

“Again, I’m honored you trust my skills to assess the situation.”

“Well, it wasn’t me who made the request.” I push the elevator button and the doors open. “I left the decision to Dr. Isles and she picked you.”

“She did?” he asks as we step aboard. 

“You seem surprised.” The elevator doors close and we make our descent. I have to smile though. I’m no stranger to the talk in this department. Gossip doesn’t travel far here, but it does travel fast. It’s no shock that Dr. Pike, while acting like he has an adversary relationship for Dr. Isles, holds a great affection for her. 

“No, I’m not surprised per say,” he replies. “I just thought that you were requesting another doctors’ expertise since she may miss something of importance in her report.”

“Dr. Isles is very professional,” I inform him. Now I’m starting to see why Rizzoli and Dr. Isles find this man infuriating at times. 

“Absolutely,” he back-peddles. “I just meant given her relationship to Det. Frost and Det. Rizzoli. Sometimes it’s difficult for women in this position. They may let their emotions cloud the evidence before them. It’s obvious she recognizes this, so she’s to be commended for requesting help.”

The doors of the elevator open. I move to step out but put my hand across the threshold – stopping the doors from closing again, and preventing him from moving. 

“Dr. Pike,” I begin. “Dr. Isles is one of the best medical examiners in Massachusetts and dare I say the United States. She’s helped my teams crack cases on countless occasions, thanks to her brilliant mind and extensive medical knowledge, regardless of her gender. That’s why I have every faith she’ll find everything she needs regarding the fate of Det. Frost without any ‘clouding of her emotions’ as you call it. Personally, I find that language sexist and unnecessary. You are here under her request, but I have the authority to send you home. The reason you’re here is because she is hurting – just like I am; just like all of us at headquarters are – and yes, she is to be commended for being thorough. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir,” he answers meekly.

Damn straight.

“Now…” I escort him from the elevator with a tug to his arm that’s a little more forceful than needed. He stumbles slightly, but he keeps his balance as the doors close. “…We’re going to go in there and any of these petty comments I’ve heard will not be mentioned in front of Dr. Isles. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good man,” I tell him with a pat on the back… again, a little more forceful than needed…but he got the point. 

When we walk into the morgue together, I see Dr. Isles is taking off her gloves. She tosses them in the trash and makes her way over to us. I notice she reaches for my hand first, giving it a shake, and then going to Pike. 

“Thank you for coming, Dr. Pike,” she tells him. 

“My pleasure to help, but sad for the reason I assure you,” he tells her in what appears to be a genuine sentiment. 

“Senior Criminologist Susie Chang is here should you need her assistance,” she says as she points to Susie who waves from the lab window before making her way toward us. 

“Are you leaving?” Pike asks her. 

“Yes. I think it’s best if I stay out of your way and let you work. I’ll make my way to the café, should you need anything.”

“Absolutely,” Pike replies. “Does Ms. Rizzoli still work there?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Dr. Isles answers.

“Please offer my condolences to her and the detective Rizzoli’s if you would. It’s my understanding they all worked closely with Det. Frost, as did you.”

“Thank you. I certainly will,” she replies. 

We watch Susie come into the room and Dr. Isles asks, “Would you please help Dr. Pike get settled, Susie?”

“Right away, Dr. Isles,” she says and then motions Pike to follow her. 

My hand makes its way to the small of Dr. Isles back and I lead her toward the elevators. We say nothing on our trip over. Once we’re inside, and the doors close, she turns to me and asks, “Okay, truthfully, how much of an ass was he on the way down here?”

I chuckle. It’s the first time I’ve chuckled all morning. She even smiles for a brief moment. 

“He’s a jealous man, Dr. Isles. You have the talents he wishes he possesses. But to answer your question – not much. At least nothing that a little ‘bad cop’ stare didn’t fix.”

This time, she chuckles, but it doesn’t last long. 

“I shouldn’t laugh,” she says. The smile creeps from her face and a look of melancholy takes hold. 

“Feel guilty for enjoying a lighter moment?” I ask knowingly.

She just nods.

“Det. Frost always did like a good joke. I gotta believe that somewhere out there he’s laughing at what an ass Pike can be too.” Again, she smiles for the tiniest of moments. “You know,” I tell her. “It’s okay to feel joy right now – even if it’s just fleeting. I think sometimes those bits of joy are the only thing that keeps us sane in times like this. You know?”

She looks up at me with a genuine smile. 

“Yes, I believe you’re right, Lieutenant.”

The doors open and she moves to step off, but I stay put. 

“Are you coming?” she asks as she puts her hand on the door. 

Things are so on-again / off-again with Angela. I’m just not sure – I might do more harm than good by going to the café. 

“I think Angela could use a little joy too,” she says as if she’s reading my mind. “And I believe you could be the person to bring that joy to her today.”

She motions me out of the elevator and, against my prevailing doubts, I follow her. 

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

~ Angela ~

“Who survives a building falling on them only to kill themselves?” I hear Tommy say from over his bowl of chicken noodle soup. It was always the kids’ favorite comfort food, so I put a pot on right after we got the news this morning. “I don’t get it,” he adds as he takes a sip. 

We’re all around one small table in the café – Tommy, Frankie, Jane and Sgt. Korsak. Everyone, but Janie, has a bowl of soup – she’s so stubborn sometimes. 

“His mom mentioned something,” Korsak says and everyone turns to him. “She didn’t say much. Just that he’s had bouts with being down, but she never expected something like this.”

“She didn’t say anything else?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope. Right after that she said she and Robin were leaving to come here. Maybe when she gets in she might say more. I didn’t wanna push.”

“I don’t blame you,” I say before Jane can start insist Korsak provide more info when he doesn’t have any to give. She’s so on-edge right now.

“Based on how she sounded though,” Korsak continues, “he had trouble with depression in the past, but she thought he was beyond it. At least, that’s the way I took her comment.”

“Obviously, he wasn’t beyond it,” Tommy adds. It wasn’t a smart-alec comment. I could hear the pain in his voice. Jane, however…

“Really, Einstein?” she snaps. 

“What?” Tommy says defensively, “I only mean it’s a waste, ya know? It’s just sad. He was a cool guy. He talked me through that collapse when I started to freak-out over TJ. I can’t see why he’d wanna die is all. Heck, he listened to me ramble for hours in that garage. I woulda been happy to return the favor; anytime he wanted. All he had to do was call – he had my number.”

A small silence fills the space around the table. 

“He never said anything to me,” Jane remarks. She looks like she’s not fully involved in the conversation anymore. Her mind is elsewhere. “Not once,” she adds softly.

“Sweetie, why don’t you have some soup too?” I plead to her. I know she’s not hungry but eating something might occupy her thoughts for a moment or two. She won’t spend every moment beating herself up. 

“Ma, don’t ask me again. I’m not a baby who needs soup, okay? Soup is not going to help me figure out how I missed the fact he was in that much pain.” 

“How could you know?” I ask her. “How could any of us know?! Think about it: If he had issues, he never once said a word to us. And even if he did have serious issues, could he really say something to someone?”

“He coulda talked to me, Ma,” Jane insists.

“That’s not what I meant,” I tell her. I’m getting frustrated too because she’s interrupting before I can finish. She’s just not listening.

“What do you mean, Ma?” Frankie asks with a sense of neutrality we all need right now. 

“I know I haven’t been around here as long as you and Janie,” I begin, “but I see the weight cops have to haul around. If any of them admitted they needed ‘help’ would anyone here take it as something to be proud of? No. I don’t think they would. They woulda criticized him. If he said anything about being down it coulda prevent him from promotions or-or people would see him as ‘unstable’ and a guy who ‘can’t cut it’.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Frankie replies. 

“I do,” I tell him. “I see the tough cop act here. I’ve seen it from both of you! I’m looking at it right now! Sometimes carrying all that armor around gets heavy, and when you admit it’s hard, some people see you as weak. Of course, not me. I think it means you’re human. But some in the department do, I’m sure.”

“Ma,” Jane sighs in frustration.

“She’s right, Rizzoli,” a voice says behind me. 

Everyone looks over to see Sean standing there with Maura, just inside the café doors. I’m surprised he’s here, but I’m happy just the same. 

“Speaking for myself, I never would take a cop asking for help lightly,” he adds. 

“We know that, Sean,” Korsak says immediately.

“Good, but ya know as well as I do, a lot of commanders see it as a weakness. That’s why cops suffer and don’t say a word. I was fortunate when I was pushed to the breaking point – I had a commander who looked out for his men. I always thought Frost knew he had that too, but… well, like Angela said – there is a stigma; not just on the force, but everywhere.”

“It’s not like it used to be,” Korsak replies. “There’s a ways to go, no doubt, but it’s gotten better.”

“Somewhat,” Sean agrees. “But yeah, there’s a way to go yet.”

“I think help is there,” Jane says. “You just have to ask for it.”

“That’s not always easy,” Maura replies. “Many view illness of the mind much more harshly, and to a certain extent, inconsequential when compared with other types of ailments.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jane replies with a touch of a harsh tone. 

“I know,” Maura tells her. “But you’ve always been more extraordinary than most people.”

Janie turns around with a look like she wants to go a few rounds. I’ve seen that look and I’d really hate for her to open her mouth and hurt Maura ‘cause she’s hurting. I’m glad though when she sees Maura’s sincere, warm smile, and I’m thankfully that she mellows out.

“Trying to get on my good side?” Jane grins for a moment.

“Just stating what needs to be said,” Maura replies. “Because I’m willing to bet if Det. Korsak said he had cancer, everyone would take up a donation; they’d ask how they could help; they’d offer their support. But if he said it was unipolar disorder – meaning major depression – the reaction from co-workers would be much different. Rather than having a network, he would probably feel more isolated or even ostracized.”

“You know,” Jane replies, “I’d like to argue and say you’re wrong, but your right. People do look down on it.”

“They do. And that’s why people don’t talk,” Maura says softly. “What’s ironic is more Americans suffer from depression than the 17 million with coronary heart disease, the 12 million with cancer and one million with HIV/AIDS. Depression is deadly and much more rampant than people realize.”

“Really?” Frankie says. “More people have depression than those other things?”

“Yes.” Maura nods. “So your mother’s assessment is correct. It’s extremely dangerous, but people simply don’t talk about it out of fear.”

I look over to see that Sean looks tired; worn…and it’s not even noon. 

“Lieutenant?” I say to get his attention. I always try to call him by his rank at work in front of others. “I’ve got some pastries in the back for everyone ready to come out. Think you could give me a hand? I’ll give you first dibs.”

“Sure,” he says. I’m thankful he sees that I’m trying to move him away from the group for a bit. He follows me as I wave him toward the back. 

“How are you?” I ask him once we’re alone in the kitchen area.

“I’m okay,” he says. 

“That’s not armor coated, tough cop talk, is it?” I tease with a small grin.

He grins slightly too. “No. I really am okay in this moment. When I’m back in my office… well, it might be a different story. I’m just taking things minute by minute.”

“Sometimes that’s the best approach,” I say as I turn to the oven and pull out three pans of coffee cakes. 

“Hey, my favorite,” he says with a smile.

“I know,” I reply with a knowing grin. “That’s why I made them. Rizzoli’s have their soup -- figured you could use some comfort food today too.”

“You know, when Dr. Isles said she was coming here, I wasn’t sure if I should tag along.”

“Why not?” I ask. “You didn’t want to see me?”

“I know all of you loved Det. Frost and I didn’t wanna… get in the way of the family.”

“I like having you as part of my family, Sean. I like… having you in my life. You make me happy.”

I watch that adorable Irish mug of his blush slightly. He takes a few steps closer and puts his hands on my hips. 

“Coffee cake or not,” he tells me, “being around you is what really makes me feel ‘okay’; like I’ll make it to the next minute.”

I know we’re always so up in the air – together, apart, together, apart – sometimes I swear I’m back in high school with my first romance… but he’s worth it. And I know he’s in pain today.

I reach up and place my fingertips on either side of his cheeks and pull him down for a gentle kiss on the lips which he returns. It’s not loaded with passion or excitement. It’s one of those kisses that feel like a whisper, but touches a deep part of your soul. One that says everything is going to be alright.

I pull back to find him smiling at me. I nod toward the cakes and say, “Help me get them on the cooling rakes, would ya?” 

“Sure,” he says as he grabs an oven mitt. 

We both turn though when we hear the sound of the door open. There’s my eldest.

“You got any soup left, Ma?” she asks as she holds out her bowl. 

I can’t prove it, but I’m sure Maura convinced her.

“Coming right up, Sweetie,” I tell her. 

It’s good to see that Jane Rizzoli knows when she needs comfort too. 

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

~ Frankie ~

I’m not sure how long we’ve been there at the café when I hear Jane say, “Hey, Dr. Pike.”

She motions her head to the elevators and we watch the doctor make his way over. Everyone’s still there – Ma, Tommy, Korsak, Maura, the lieutenant, me and Jane. 

“So?” the lieutenant asks him as he comes into our circle. “Cause of death?”

He hands his file to Maura and says, “Sui caedere.”

“Sui caedere?” Jane asks before the rest of us can.

“Latin,” Maura speaks up. “Means ‘to kill oneself’… It was suicide, Jane.”

“Yes,” Pike says, “Dr. Isles did an amazingly thorough job and I fully collaborate with her findings. I did notice something though, which was not mentioned on her report: His fingernails.”

“What about them?” Jane asks.

“There was white streaking that often indicates high levels of stress or fatigue. That was the only physical ailment of stress I found though.”

“Any drugs, any-?” Jane asks.

“None; totally clean,” Pike replies before she says more. “As Dr. Isles points out in her findings, there were no other substances – illegal narcotics or legal pharmaceuticals – in his system at the time of his death. There’s no physical indication of addiction prior to his death either. In fact, he was quite healthy – from a physical standpoint. Speaking of, I believe this suicide wasn’t a mercy killing of any kind.”

“Mercy killing?” I ask. 

Pike nods. “He wasn’t physical ill to the point that he wished for death. There’s no evidence he was suffering in any bodily way,” he replies. He then turns to Maura. “Was there anything else that you require, Dr. Isles?”

“No, Dr. Pike. You’ve been quite helpful, thank you.”

“Very well,” he tells her. “I can take that report back to Ms. Chang when I collect my things, if you wish.”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll go with you,” Maura tells him and motions him back to the elevators. Before she leaves though, she gives Jane’s arm a gentle pat as she passes by her. 

The silence seems to last a long time once she’s gone. No one in the circle seems to know what to say. 

“Vanilla?” we hear a voice outside the circle call over. 

We turn to see Rondo, one of Jane’s informants, make his way over. “I saw the T.V. I wanted to make sure Baby Vanilla was okay.” He looks at me and smiles. I have to grin too for a moment…Baby Vanilla. Nice. 

He tells her, “They said a young, male cop was dead so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t our boy here,” he motions toward me.

Jane clears her throat. “It was Frost, my partner.”

“Ohhh, I’m sorry. Look, I’ll get the word on the street and we’ll find out who did-.”

She holds up her hand. “It’s a suicide. He, uh, he killed himself.”

“Why’d he go and do that?” Rondo asks. 

“I wish I knew,” Jane sighs. She takes a couple of bucks from her pocket and hands them to Rondo. “Have a coffee on me for coming all the way down here,” she says. She gives him a forced smile as she backs away from the table. She points skyward and tells no one in particular, “I gotta get upstairs.”

I’m not sure what to do. Do I follow? Do I stay? I don’t think I can help her with this, but I hate to see her suffer. Yeah, we annoy the hell out of each other. We compete just short of gladiators sometimes. But to see her now…just broken…I’m not sure what I can say. I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can do.

I’m on the verge of following her anyway when Korsak says, “I got this…Next time, you’re up.”

I just nod as he taps my hand in support before following after her. 

I know what he means. It’s going to take all of us, at different times, to help Jane, and to help each other. At least, it seems that way right now. 

It’s almost like tag team wrestling – we stay in there and fight the battle of grief until it gets to be too much. Then we let someone else jump in and we rest up for the next fight. 

The only thing is… I don’t think we’ll ever have a ‘winner’. I don’t think this bout will ever be over. Sure, there’ll come a day when it probably doesn’t sting as much, but we’ll always be scarred by the battle… I wonder if Frost bothered to think about the pain he was leaving behind in his wake. 

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

~ Vince ~

I walk into the squad to see Jane and Crowe arguing.

“It wasn’t my idea, so get off my back!” he yells at her.

“Give me the files now!” she orders him. 

“What’s going on?” I ask as I come to stand between them.

“He stole my cases!” she practically yells.

Crowe looks at me in a pleading fashion and then says, “Cavanagh gave them to me, Vince. Rizzoli’s got a lot to deal with right now and he asked-.”

“I don’t give a damn what he asked!” Jane shoots back at him. “They’re mine so give them back.”

Crowe looks torn. I motion my head toward Jane - a gesture that says to just give the cases to her for now. With a roll of his eyes, he does so. Of course, she grabs them back with a little more force than necessary, almost dropping them. I go for the save and together we walk them back to her desk, precariously balanced in our arms. Once they’re safe, I take her by the elbow before she can sit down. 

“Walk with me,” I tell her. 

It’s not a command, but it’s not a request either. Lucky for me, she comes along without argument. We make my way to Cavanagh’s vacant office. Once inside, I close the door behind us.

“What Vince?” she asks, clearly annoyed. “Are you pulling rank on me now?”

“Who are you really angry at right now?” I ask.

The question seems to catch her off guard at first. Then she says, “Crowe and Cavanagh for plotting behind our backs and taking away our cases.”

“I think you’re mad at Frost,” I tell her. 

“What are you talking about?” She tries to be evasive, but it’s not gonna work. Not on me anyway.

“I think you’re mad at Frost,” I repeat. “I think you’re mad at yourself too. And I think you’re taking out your frustration on the nearest people you can find.”

“That’s bullshit,” she says as she starts to leave. 

She doesn’t get far because I slam the door shut, preventing her escape.

“Okay, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say you’re not mad at him. Me? I’m mad as hell at him.” I see a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry for the guy, but I’m mad at him too, Jane. He left us high and dry. He thought it was better to put a god-damn bullet in his head rather than stick around for us. You might think that’s selfish of me, but so be it. HE left US, Jane. He was so blinded by his depression that he left us! And the truth be told, I’m mad at me too. Why didn’t I see it? I’m a fucking police sergeant. I’ve spent over 20 years looking for the truth beneath what people say on the surface. How did I miss something THIS big? So yeah, I’m mad at me too.”

I watch her hand fall away from the door as I continue.

“I’m angry that he’s made you this upset. I’m pissed because of all the people whose lives he might have helped will never get that help now. I’m angry at the world because, like Maura said, maybe if there wasn’t such a stigma, he might have reached out for help. I’m angry for a lot of reasons right now. But again, if you want to just view him as some tragic figure, fine. It is a tragedy. But it’s one that HE created for all of us. And yeah, that makes me mad.” 

She looks like she’s near tears. I don’t wanna make her cry. I NEED to make her cry – there’s a difference. 

“I shouldn’t be angry at him,” she mutters as she looks at the ground.

“But you are, aren’t you?” I push.

All she can do is nod. 

“Yeah, you should be angry,” I tell her. “His actions hurt you -- it hurt all of us. But here’s the thing: We can’t go around hurting the ones who are still here. You can’t get mad at Crowe and Cavanagh for taking care of our cases right now. You can’t get mad at your mother for trying to give you soup you don’t want. You can’t shout at Tommie for not picking the right words in front of you. You can’t bite off Dr. Isles head for not completely agree with you… All these people love you, Jane. I love you. So if you want to get mad at Frost, do it. You’re allowed. But don’t drag others into it.”

“I’m acting like an ass, huh?” 

She gives me a small grin, but I don’t return it.

“You’re acting like a woman who’s grieving. You’re hurt and angry. And I’m here to tell you, it’s okay to be hurt and angry. Just don’t let that anger and pain create more problems in your life. Don’t let it blind you to the people who truly love you and are here for you… me include.”

She starts to cry and talk at the same time. 

“I hate him for it, Vince. I really hate him for just leaving. And I feel terrible for hating him. Ya know?”

I don’t care if she ends up fighting me. I go for it. I pull her into an embrace. I’m grateful that she puts her arms around me instead of pushing me away. Truth is, I need this hug too. 

“I know,” I whisper into her hair and give her a kiss on the crown of her head. “I hate him for it too, but I still love the guy we lost. I think you know what I mean.”

She doesn’t say a word. She just bobs her head in agreement. After a few moments, she clears her throat and then pulls away. She wipes her eyes and gives a nervous laugh. 

“I look pretty pathetic I bet,” she says with an unsteady grin. 

“No more pathetic than the rest of us. And still better than me on my best day,” I tease her. 

That makes her chuckle for a second. I go to Sean’s desk and grab a tissue for her. She blows her nose and then takes a deep breath before blowing it out slowly. 

“I have to tell ya,” she says, “admitting that actually felt pretty good. Knowing I’m not the only one that feels that way helps too,” she adds. 

“Misery really does love company sometimes, Jane. So I’m here for you,” I tell her. 

She nods and then wipes her eyes and nose again. “I really should go talk to Maura. I’ve been pretty bitchy with her all day.”

“Good,” I tell her. “As for Crowe, let me give him the files this week, okay? Next week, once all the funeral business is finished, we’ll fight with Cavanaugh for those cases back. You and me – a unified front, whadda ya say?”

I give her a grin, which she returns and then nods. 

“Thanks, Vince.”

“Anytime,” I tell her as I open the door for her. And we both know… I really mean it. 

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

~ Jane ~

It feels like it’s been three days since I saw Vince crying, but it’s only been a few hours. I walk into the morgue to see Maura signing a clipboard. It looks like the funeral director’s men have come for Frost’s body. I watch one of them shake Maura’s hand and give her a nod of condolence while two others wheel him away. 

“Camille already picked out a home?” I ask Maura as I make my way over. “When did that happen?”

“Lieutenant Cavanaugh called her after you did and made some suggestions on possible locations,” she replies. 

“Oh, well, I, uh…” Not sure why I’m getting tongue tied right now. “I wanted to say I was sorry.” 

“For what?” she asks. 

I find myself distracted from continuing as I watch them load Frost into the waiting Hearse. 

“I, uh, I’ve been kinda…short with you.” She doesn’t say anything. She just gives me that ‘Maura’ look – the one that says she knows that’s not what I really wanted to say so I might as well just spill it. “Okay. I’ve been a total bitch today.”

She snorts and then grins. 

“And don’t say, ‘what’s new?’,” I warn her playfully afterthought.

“I was going to say, ‘I haven’t noticed’,” she retorts. 

She smiles for a moment before a look of sincerity washes over her. 

“You’re hurt and you’re scared, Jane. And I know how you get when you’re feeling hurt and scared.”

“That doesn’t excuse it,” I tell her.

“No, it doesn’t. But I DO understand it,” she replies. “Aside from hurt, how do you really feel right now?”

“Boy is THAT ever a loaded question or what?” 

“It’s not meant to be. I am genuinely asking, because if there’s any way I can help you, I will.”

I start to tear up. 

“Right there,” I tell her. I point at her briefly and then start to pace. “I know you’re here,” I tell her through my growing tears. “And I felt the same way about Frost. I’d help him any way I could. But rather than come to me, he decided to off himself. I shoulda told him that more, ya know? I shoulda say I was there for him; paid better attention and…”

“Seen this coming?” she prompts. 

“Yes… and no…Honest, Maura, he never gave me any indication that he felt his life was that meaningless – not once. He never showed anyone that he was in pain. If anything, he always went out of his way to ask about others. How can someone have that much respect and care for other people’s lives yet have so little for his own? I don’t get that, Maura. I don’t… I don’t know why he’s dead. I hoped that maybe you’d find something and…”

“What do you mean?” she asks. 

“A part of me hoped, he was on drugs or someone HAD drugged him. Maybe he took a sleeping pill and had a psychotic break. Just something that would explain why this happened -- something other than he felt so sad that he thought it would never get better. I just… I wanted something tangible, ya know? I wanted something I could point to and say, ‘See? It wasn’t Frost’s fault. He DID want to live.’ But the truth is…”

“He didn’t,” she says softly and closes the distance between us.

I shake my head and fight back the tears again.

“Did he even care about me? About any of us? Because if you care about someone you don’t do this to them, Maura. Ya just don’t put them through this. And if he never cared about us, why do I care so much about him now?”

She says nothing. She simply watches while I work it all out in my head.

“Truth is… I feel guilty because I shouldn’t be angry like this – and I think he did care. He did love me. The problem was his brain just didn’t work the way ours do…Ya know what I mean? I feel all mixed up here and…and I don’t like it.”

I give a nervous snort and then hang my head. I squeeze my eyes tight, hoping to force the growing tears out of them. When I open my eyes again, I see her feet stop inches from mine. And for a brief moment I smile – Jimmy Coos, just like I thought early today. I know Maura and she knows me. That’s why she’s just letting me ramble and she’s now stroking my hair. 

“I’m sorry,” I tell her as I raise my head. 

She stops stroking my hair and uses her fingertips to wipe away my tears. 

“I wonder if he knows now?” I say in a soft voice.

“Knows what?” she asks. 

“The truth… I wonder if he knows how much pain he’s caused or how much he was really loved, even if he felt all alone with nowhere to turn.”

“I think he knows. While no one truly understands what comes after death, I like to think all of our questions are answered. Well, that would be my idea of a heaven anyway,” she replies. 

“Mine too,” I tell her. “I’m, uh, I’m disappointed the department won’t honor him. Suicide… he can’t get the usual burial rights, ya know? He didn’t die a ‘hero’s death’. According to the department, it doesn’t matter how many people he saved over the years. For them, it’s all about how you ‘went out’… It’s wrong if you ask me.”

Maura holds up her finger and walks over to her printer. 

“I found something today that reminded me of Det. Frost. I wasn’t sure when, or even if, I would give it to you. The author is anonymous but even if you don’t know who wrote it, I think you might find it rather meaningful now.”

She hands me the paper, and although I have yet to read a word, I know it will probably help. Maura gets me and I’m sure the words she found will offer some comfort. Will it solve all the conflicts in my head? No. Like she said, I’ll have questions always unanswered, well, at least in this lifetime. But I know this piece of paper could be the first step of healing the pain that ‘sui caedere’ brings. It might help me say goodbye to someone who touched my life for the better. As I begin to read, I feel myself tear up…

The Measure of Man

Not, ‘How did he die?’, but, ‘how did he live?’  
Not, “What did he gain?’, but, “What did he give?’  
These are the units to measure the worth  
of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Not, ‘What was his church?’, nor, “What was his creed?’  
But had he befriended those really in need?  
Was he ever ready, with word of good cheer,  
to bring back a smile, to banish a tear?

Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say,  
but how many were sorry when he passed away.

Sure. Some may say suicide is the coward’s way out. In the end though, it doesn’t matter how we leave this world. All that matters is what we do while we’re here. And the truth is… he did good. 

The End


End file.
